dancing
October 2008 
Hotel
Posted on Jun 3rd, 2008
by 
michaelsits
michaelsits
I had been waiting for this night for so long. I think since the first time I leaned over to see the top pf a girl’s naked breast. Exposed because of the way she was sitting at her desk in the third row just in front of me in science class with Mr. Sobieski.
She finally agreed to do it. I am not even sure what she has agreed to do really. But it doesn’t matter. We are going to do something.
When we spoke on the phone one last time g=before meeting there, I asked her again, “are you sure you are ready? We don’t have to do this yet. There is no rush, well, expect for how badly I want to touch you, feel you and love you to pieces.”
She hesitated like a little girl before she answered. I panicked during those few seconds and thought she would change her mind but in a soft, shaky voice these words escaped her mouth, “I want you. I am ready; you just have to be gentle with me. Remember I a have never done this before.” Her voice cracked a little and trailed off at the end of the last sentence. I thought I heard her sniffle once too.
I think this is the night I was waiting for and dreaming about since my first wet dream as a ten year old boy waking in the middle of the night wondering what and why my penis was pulsing and spurting out this gooey, creamy stuff all over my wearing his blue and orange NY Knicks pajamas. Yeah, I think this is that dream. She is that dream. Lisa is that dream.
We met at a N.I.A. class two summers ago at Main Street Yoga studio. The first time I saw her in that purple dance outfit that clung to every magnificent curve of her body. How many did she have to try on to find one that fits her like that? I forgot how to breathe. Fortunately, she did not see me yet. She has a body that all men and woman like to look at and she enjoys them looking at her, a lot. After the dancing and moving was done, we made eye contact for a split second and both flinched and turned away. She then looked back, stuck out her right hand inviting me to shake her hand and said firmly, "Hi. I am Lisa. Have you ever been to a N.I.A. class before?” I knew she was gong to be a Lisa.
“Once. I did it last Friday for the first time. I saw the article in the eastside News and thought a class with modern dance, Yoga and Thai Chi two blocks form my house seemed to good to not try. So, I showed up last week and am back again today.” I was impressed I was able to speak while sheepishly looking at her soft brown round eyes, olive skin and perfectly oval face with the thick, long black her that only Italian girls have. Was she Italian?
“Wow, that us so cool. I am so glad you came back. I hope to see you again.” She said, nodded affirmingly and walked away smiling, no grinning I think before she looked back once more as she walked out of the studio and down the steps to the exit downstairs.
Done. I was sold. Lisa was the fantasy I have been looking for since I was waking up in the NY Knicks pajamas. Now she is live and in person with at body and the same smile with that soul I dreamed of. I could not wait till next Friday at 4:00pm to move and dance with Lisa again.
I arrived about ten minutes early for class the following Friday. She was there along with a few other women. The two precious classes I was the only guy, it looked that would be the case again on his day. She was wearing black this time, low cut displaying her chest. Breathe Michael, breathe. I signed in so I could have something to do that didn’t include rudely staring at her and dreaming.
At 4:00 she said loud enough for everybody to hear and respond, “OK, let’s get started its four o’clock.”
Oh my God, she is the teacher this class. Badun badun my heart pounded, veins showing and I cold feel my eyes opened and wide like I had never seen a woman before. The class was a blur of fantasies and a concerted effort to not have an erection. After that effort failed, the new goal was to conceal my small but probably still visible erection in my Champion blue cotton shorts. I was wearing a white tank top that was a little sweating from dancing and had a small bright red stain from the fresh strawberries I picked and ate just before riding my bike to the studio.
After class, I was putting my sandals back on in the other room when she walked in, smiled, asked if enjoyed class, picked up her bag off the floor and entered the little changing “room” before pulling the purple curtain closed for privacy. I could hear her black dance outfit hit the floor as it came off her body. Lisa was naked about four and a half feet away from with just a purple curtain separating us. What a pervert I am! Then I heard her slip something else onto her body. What was she wearing now? About 30 seconds later the curtain opens and Lisa walk out in a sleeveless black dress that covered everything the law says she has to cover with gold sandals with heels and a black strap around her ankles. Her hair was no longer in a pigtail but long, full and beautifully straight parted in the middle and shiny. When did she brush her hair? Was I that lost in my fantasy that I missed that part? How could I miss Lisa brushing her hair?
We walked out together and talked on the way to her silver-black Audi. I asked her what she did for a living. She said in a more professional serious voice, “I am a child psychologist. I work with youth that have severe mental and emotional issues. How about you?” And she looked directly at me waiting for my response.
“Wow, that is so cool! I am counselor that works with kids too! That is so cool.” We talked about our work and why we do what we do and how we ended up doing it. She then told me she was from upstate New York, near Albany. I shared that I was from jersey. We briefly told our unique stories of landing in Madison. I didn’t even hear anything she said. I was so lost in the discovery and acknowledgement that standing before me was the woman I had been dreaming about since wet dreams in my NY Knicks pajamas. She exists and is standing in front of me right now! And, she is a child psychologist, smart, dances like a goddess, from the ny/nj area and is full-blooded Italian.
When we got off the phone at 4:35pm an made plans to meet there at 7:00pm, the only thing that crossed my mind was what would happen if I had an orgasm before I got here or while at dinner or dancing or anything before we got to our room.
Wow. Our room. We are gong to be in a room with a bedroom, a large black and white marble bathtub and a bed. Lisa and I will be in a private room with a bed. A big bed with Royal blue Egyptian cotton sheets. I went and picked out the room on Tuesday to make sure everything would be perfect for our first night together.
Together, my and Lisa.
I wonder if she will be wearing that same sleeveless black dress that she wore after class and changed four and a half feet away from me behind the purple curtain?
How did she make it to thirty-three, go through college and grad school, become a successful child psychologist, be gorgeous with that body, a dancer and not yet have a man inside her?
She finally agreed to do it. I am not even sure what she has agreed to do really. But it doesn’t matter. We are going to do something.
When we spoke on the phone one last time g=before meeting there, I asked her again, “are you sure you are ready? We don’t have to do this yet. There is no rush, well, expect for how badly I want to touch you, feel you and love you to pieces.”
She hesitated like a little girl before she answered. I panicked during those few seconds and thought she would change her mind but in a soft, shaky voice these words escaped her mouth, “I want you. I am ready; you just have to be gentle with me. Remember I a have never done this before.” Her voice cracked a little and trailed off at the end of the last sentence. I thought I heard her sniffle once too.
I think this is the night I was waiting for and dreaming about since my first wet dream as a ten year old boy waking in the middle of the night wondering what and why my penis was pulsing and spurting out this gooey, creamy stuff all over my wearing his blue and orange NY Knicks pajamas. Yeah, I think this is that dream. She is that dream. Lisa is that dream.
We met at a N.I.A. class two summers ago at Main Street Yoga studio. The first time I saw her in that purple dance outfit that clung to every magnificent curve of her body. How many did she have to try on to find one that fits her like that? I forgot how to breathe. Fortunately, she did not see me yet. She has a body that all men and woman like to look at and she enjoys them looking at her, a lot. After the dancing and moving was done, we made eye contact for a split second and both flinched and turned away. She then looked back, stuck out her right hand inviting me to shake her hand and said firmly, "Hi. I am Lisa. Have you ever been to a N.I.A. class before?” I knew she was gong to be a Lisa.
“Once. I did it last Friday for the first time. I saw the article in the eastside News and thought a class with modern dance, Yoga and Thai Chi two blocks form my house seemed to good to not try. So, I showed up last week and am back again today.” I was impressed I was able to speak while sheepishly looking at her soft brown round eyes, olive skin and perfectly oval face with the thick, long black her that only Italian girls have. Was she Italian?
“Wow, that us so cool. I am so glad you came back. I hope to see you again.” She said, nodded affirmingly and walked away smiling, no grinning I think before she looked back once more as she walked out of the studio and down the steps to the exit downstairs.
Done. I was sold. Lisa was the fantasy I have been looking for since I was waking up in the NY Knicks pajamas. Now she is live and in person with at body and the same smile with that soul I dreamed of. I could not wait till next Friday at 4:00pm to move and dance with Lisa again.
I arrived about ten minutes early for class the following Friday. She was there along with a few other women. The two precious classes I was the only guy, it looked that would be the case again on his day. She was wearing black this time, low cut displaying her chest. Breathe Michael, breathe. I signed in so I could have something to do that didn’t include rudely staring at her and dreaming.
At 4:00 she said loud enough for everybody to hear and respond, “OK, let’s get started its four o’clock.”
Oh my God, she is the teacher this class. Badun badun my heart pounded, veins showing and I cold feel my eyes opened and wide like I had never seen a woman before. The class was a blur of fantasies and a concerted effort to not have an erection. After that effort failed, the new goal was to conceal my small but probably still visible erection in my Champion blue cotton shorts. I was wearing a white tank top that was a little sweating from dancing and had a small bright red stain from the fresh strawberries I picked and ate just before riding my bike to the studio.
After class, I was putting my sandals back on in the other room when she walked in, smiled, asked if enjoyed class, picked up her bag off the floor and entered the little changing “room” before pulling the purple curtain closed for privacy. I could hear her black dance outfit hit the floor as it came off her body. Lisa was naked about four and a half feet away from with just a purple curtain separating us. What a pervert I am! Then I heard her slip something else onto her body. What was she wearing now? About 30 seconds later the curtain opens and Lisa walk out in a sleeveless black dress that covered everything the law says she has to cover with gold sandals with heels and a black strap around her ankles. Her hair was no longer in a pigtail but long, full and beautifully straight parted in the middle and shiny. When did she brush her hair? Was I that lost in my fantasy that I missed that part? How could I miss Lisa brushing her hair?
We walked out together and talked on the way to her silver-black Audi. I asked her what she did for a living. She said in a more professional serious voice, “I am a child psychologist. I work with youth that have severe mental and emotional issues. How about you?” And she looked directly at me waiting for my response.
“Wow, that is so cool! I am counselor that works with kids too! That is so cool.” We talked about our work and why we do what we do and how we ended up doing it. She then told me she was from upstate New York, near Albany. I shared that I was from jersey. We briefly told our unique stories of landing in Madison. I didn’t even hear anything she said. I was so lost in the discovery and acknowledgement that standing before me was the woman I had been dreaming about since wet dreams in my NY Knicks pajamas. She exists and is standing in front of me right now! And, she is a child psychologist, smart, dances like a goddess, from the ny/nj area and is full-blooded Italian.
When we got off the phone at 4:35pm an made plans to meet there at 7:00pm, the only thing that crossed my mind was what would happen if I had an orgasm before I got here or while at dinner or dancing or anything before we got to our room.
Wow. Our room. We are gong to be in a room with a bedroom, a large black and white marble bathtub and a bed. Lisa and I will be in a private room with a bed. A big bed with Royal blue Egyptian cotton sheets. I went and picked out the room on Tuesday to make sure everything would be perfect for our first night together.
Together, my and Lisa.
I wonder if she will be wearing that same sleeveless black dress that she wore after class and changed four and a half feet away from me behind the purple curtain?
How did she make it to thirty-three, go through college and grad school, become a successful child psychologist, be gorgeous with that body, a dancer and not yet have a man inside her?
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